


silver lines

by isshun



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isshun/pseuds/isshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>letting go was the hardest thing he ever had to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	silver lines

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the line "to sei-chan, winning is just like breathing."  
> i'm sorry for this piece. idk anymore.  
> gif 1 (c) cayde @ tumblr.  
> gif 2 (c) gifmovie @ tumblr.

//

 

absence makes the heart grow fonder. maybe this is what we need - a little time away from each other to rediscover our love.

[the end where the sky touches the sea,](http://33.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md51my1GoC1qmpdmdo1_500.gif) that’s where i’ll find you [again.](http://38.media.tumblr.com/40ecf42045bf75f904ccd630924707d7/tumblr_mi4li8iwvR1qg39ewo1_500.gif)

 

 

 

The first choke Akashi Seijuuro ever experienced in his life was losing to Seirin during the Winter Cup. Along the way he's had his fair share of breathing difficulties, but none he could not overcome with Furihata Kouki by his side.

Akashi remembers the days when they just got to meet each other, when Furihata was still a trembling mess every time they came within six meters of each other and almost peed himself when Akashi so much as bats an eyelash at him during joint school practices. In retrospect, it’s amusing, Akashi thinks, that things could change between them and evolve into something more intimate and establish each other as a constant in their lives. From a coincidental streetball match to weekly Saturday pick-up games and then onto their very first date, Furihata seems to have, in Akashi’s opinion, eased into the busy flow of Akashi’s life and blended himself perfectly with the walls of Akashi’s home.

(Maybe a little too perfectly, until the walls have obscured his presence and hidden him from plain view. But Akashi does not realise this until it’s a little too late.)

Which is why years later, on a humid summer night when he arrives home dead tired from work to see Furihata sitting on the couch with his knapsack the brunet only uses for travelling by his side, Akashi’s heart stops for ten seconds before continuing beating on weakly.

“Kouki?” For the first time in his life, he calls out that name with uncertainty.

Furihata glances at him in acknowledgement. Guilt flashes across his hazel eyes for a second as he stands to face the redhead.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur. Furihata says something that Akashi’s mind can’t seem to register what it exactly is, and then he pauses for a while, as if expecting a response. But Akashi can’t seem to provide one if he could not hear what the question was in the first place, so he keeps quiet and stares blankly back at Furihata, mind racing through a million questions in confusion yet not arriving at a single conclusion like he usually does.

And then, after what it seems to be an eternity, Furihata speaks. Quiet as his voice may be, this time, Akashi hears him loud and clear.

“All right,” Furihata says, defeated, biting his lip for a second to keep it from trembling, “you win.”

And then he’s gone. Just like that. For the remaining hours of the night, Akashi sits in the couch, on the exact same spot Furihata sat before all of this happened, and replays the five-minute scene over and over for hours until dawn breaks and it’s time to go to work again.

_All right, you win._

It’s only four words, but why does Akashi feel like the whole world has collapsed on him? Why does it feel so hard to breathe?

_You win._

As he sits in his room and continues to review the day’s stack of paperwork, unbeknownst to Akashi, his heart sinks further into a whirlpool of confusion and numbness that sucks away any particle of oxygen in his lungs.

The office is terribly quiet today. Akashi continues to drown in the suffocating silence until it’s too late to come back up for air.

 

 

 

_He never broke my heart. He only turned it into a compass that always points me back to him._

_-Clementine von Radics, In Defense of Loving Him_

 

 

 

Akashi doesn’t know what breathing fresh air feels like until he kisses Furihata Kouki for the very first time.

Kissing Furihata feels like the quiet dawn of a new day. On the surface, it’s nothing but a soft press of their lips against one another, but deep in the thick forests of Akashi’s heart and soul something stirs, like restless waves rising higher and higher than ever before until they crash against the shoreline of the sea to reveal what he has always been missing all along in his life. Furihata’s existence has this miraculous way of lifting Akashi’s feet from the ground, away from heavy puddles of misery, stress and confusion into the air where the breeze caresses his face like a loving mother he lost a long time ago.

Under the moonlight, when they both pull away from each other, Furihata’s complexion glows in a soft shade of pink, eyes shimmering like fading stars that encaptures Akashi in this calm, trance-like state he never knew he could ever experience. But hazel eyes soon shift away in embarrassment, and Akashi suddenly feels lost. He wants more of that inner peace, that calm state of mind that fills his lungs with fresh air and brings the world around him alive.

“Kouki.” he whispers, gently lifting the brunet’s chin as he leans forward to kiss him again, lips brushing over and over until Furihata whimpers softly at the tenderness of Akashi’s touch.

His hazel eyes are mesmerizing. Even with half-lidded eyes, Akashi notices the different emotions flickering across Furihata’s eyes, from apprehension and nervousness to embarrassment, and then finally bliss, before they flutter shut as his arms wrap around Akashi’s neck to pull the latter closer and let him in.

Later, when they part for air and Furihata rests their forehead together, Akashi closes his eyes and exhales blissfully. This is what love feels like, breathing life into each other, coming alive, the highest state of tranquility one could ever hope to achieve as they stand on the tallest mountains overlooking the world.

“I love you.” Furihata confesses quietly.

“I love you too, Kouki.” Akashi breathes. There is no better feeling than this in the world.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

It’s been one week since Furihata walked out of his life, paperwork has filled up the void left behind by the brunet’s sudden absence, though Akashi finds that it’s an extremely poor substitute for companionship in exchange for grey solitude.

It’s Sunday. Another week gone. Akashi contemplates heading to the office today, but a tiny voice at the back of his head reminds him that the company’s operating system is scheduled for maintenance today, and that all systems would only be back up and running around midnight. So, he shuts his laptop and searches for his shogi board, hoping to play a few satisfying rounds before lunchtime.

How long has it been since Akashi stayed at home for a solid three hours without working? He can’t remember. It takes him more than half an hour to locate his dusty shogi board lying at some corner of the closet, and when he finally sits down and completes a few matches, his throat feels extremely dry and raspy.

“Kouki, where is-” When Akashi turns around to see an empty room behind him, he is reminded once again that Furihata is gone. There is no one left to bring him hot cups of tea and watch him play shogi anymore.

But that seems like such a long time ago, doesn’t it? If memory serves, even before the night Furihata left, Akashi can’t remember the last time he had ten minutes worth of conversation with the brunet.

Something eggs at his heart. Maybe this is why Furihata left. Maybe he has stopped loving Akashi and decided to move on. Maybe Akashi deserves all this aching solitude as retribution for all the pain and neglect he caused Furihata.

He longs for Furihata's soft touches, his quiet, muffled moans against his skin as he comes beautifully apart underneath Akashi. Those glazed eyes, tender lips, shy smiles... Akashi misses them all.

Furihata brings out the human side in him. As of late, Akashi has difficulties suppressing that suffocating feeling bubbling in his heart. It smears across his respiratory system like thick black tar, smothering him, and it takes him all he has to stay afloat and gasp for enough air to keep him (barely) alive.

He's been alone for a long time years back. He thought he could handle it again, but Akashi finds that he can't get used to the fact there is no one waiting by his side, no one to hold his hand, no one to bring him a glass of water after his shogi matches anymore.

if Akashi would admit, he'd say things now have changed.

(He is lonely.)

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

They used to go for morning jogs together, months back when things were still okay and they still had time for each other. Akashi would wake up before dawn, brush his teeth before urging a sleepy Furihata buried under warm blankets to do the same. And then they’d take the elevator while Furihata grumbles about how cold mornings like to freeze his balls off and Akashi would say ‘dear me, that wouldn’t do, would it?’ and by the time they’re done with the endearing yet corny jokes, the elevator doors would open and they’d hit off running from the front of the lobby right up till the neighbourhood park. On the way home, they’d stop by the beach for five minutes to witness the birth of a new day before Akashi decides it’s time to head back for breakfast.

Akashi can count the number of minutes Furihata takes to kick off his shoes and run towards the low tide just to feel the waves lap at his feet. It’s comforting to know that every time Furihata would run back upshore to drag Akashi with him to sea, where the first ray of sunrise peeks from grey morning clouds and touches the calm surface of the ocean. The sea breeze does his respiratory system wonders. When Furihata moves closer to his side and rests his head on Akashi’s shoulder, the air instantly feels clearer, breathing comes easier and suddenly the world’s a little brighter than before.

But now, Akashi feels like drowning, restless waves clawing at his knees as the current rises higher and higher until it submerges him completely from head to toe, dragging him down like a shipwreck sinking to the ocean bed with no one to save him. Slow, agonizing and painful. And it gets harder and harder to breathe until he's sitting in his office one day, cold dry air biting into his skin when he stands up and feels the whole world spin like a vortex, pitless black holes lost in space.

Standing up, the room starts swimming. Tidal waves are crashing above his head and pulling him below the sea. The air feels heavy, salty waves fill his lungs until he suddenly cannot breathe. The last thing he hears before sinking into oblivion is the sound of his name going-

_Akashi-san?_

_Akashi-san!?_

-and then the world turns silent and fades to black.

 

 

 

/

 

 

 

There exists this place in Akashi’s mind where he is trapped underwater, unable to or move, or speak. He goes wherever the current takes him, floating past acres of empty seabeds with nothing but the cold as company. Lost in the sea, swept away by solitude, the shore never seems to arrive. There is no end to this vast emptiness, nothing in sight except for miles and miles of still saltwater and the occasional flash of silver reflected on the surface of the ocean.

When he wakes up, everything still seems ablur, obscured by gentle waves rippling above him with each movement his eyes register. Even the voices coming from beside his bed sound muffled by the water. Akashi can’t quite understand what they’re saying until someone rushes forward and envelopes him into a tight hug.

The mop of messy brown hair is enough for Akashi to remember. He would’ve recognised that colour, that face, that scent anywhere, even among the frantic whispers of his name.

_You came._

“Furihata-kun?” someone says, “Akashi-kun is fine. He’s just stressed and overworked himself.”

“I never should’ve left!” Furihata blurts. His face crumples in heartbreaking desperation and sadness, “it just felt like you didn’t need me anymore.”

_It was my mistake._

“Say something, please? Seijuuro?” Furihata starts to cry. Akashi's heart twists and writhes in pain. The waves come back stronger and faster this time, they take away the tranquility until he’s left gasping for air and struggling to reach for the surface of the sea.

“Hold my hand, Kouki.” he tries to say.

Trembling fingers interlace with his cold ones. The warmth pulls him ashore, guiding him towards the light where Furihata always has been there, waiting for him with arms (so full of love) wide open.

"Seijuuro." Furihata chokes on the tears flooding his face. Slowly, Akashi rests his palm on tear-stained cheeks and gently wipes away hot droplets racing down soft slopes. When Furihata’s face breaks out into a tiny smile amidst his broken sobs, Akashi lets out a very quiet, contented sigh.

It feels like his very first breath all over again.

 

 

//

**Author's Note:**

> to me, silver lines can mean a lot of things - hope (silver lining); the lines that make out your silhouette in the dark; the horizon where the sky meets the sea; or the patches on the ocean surface that you see when you’re underwater, ready to break through them and finally breathe again.


End file.
